


Watching over you

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Drug Use, F/M, Friendship, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Immortal Merlin (Merlin), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Morgana crying, Not Merlin tho, Parent Gaius (Merlin), Queen Gwen (Merlin), Secrets, Suicidal Thoughts, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Lancelot is the first to enter the room, able to watch over Merlin after he dies. As others join the room, they watch as Merlin loses everybody he loves.
Comments: 75
Kudos: 434
Collections: Merlin





	1. The Room

Lancelot was the first to visit the room. He woke up in it, confused, swore the last thing he remembered was sacrificing himself so that Merlin could live, so that they could close the veil. Yet here he was, in a four-walled room, with comfy looking furniture and windows that showed nothing but light outside.

In the centre of the room was a large window, that showed a picture of Camelot. He realised that the window moved, that he could watch as the window moved down Camelot’s corridors, through to Arthur’s Chambers.

The window moved around constantly, but Lancelot quickly learnt that it was the world he had left behind, through the eyes of the Warlock he had sacrificed his life for. All he could do was watch in shock and horror as Merlin’s life grew more complicated, as he spent more and more time by himself. Occasionally, he would be able to see Merlin’s reflection, like when he went to the lake and sobbed.

**

Elyan was the next person in the room. By this time, Lancelot had gotten used to the space. The room expanded as he needed it to, brought him items that he wanted, and the window became a great source of entertainment.

So, when he had a friend, it was quite a surprise. Another room appeared, a bedroom, and Lancelot explained everything to his friend. That they got to see the world through Merlin’s eyes, watched as they burnt Elyan’s body on the lake. The view blurred slightly, before hands were scrubbing the tears away and they could watch it once more.

For the most part, the screen stayed on. Occasionally it flicked off, which Lancelot informed his friend was probably so that Merlin could have some privacy for some moments, and when he slept. They got to watch Arthur’s sadness as he banished Gwen, Merlin’s struggle to keep everything balanced.

Elyan cried many a time for their friend, and Lancelot could do nothing but pat his shoulder, tell him that everything would be alright.

**

Gwaine arrived next, but barely. He appeared in the room with a gasp, crying out and turning around. Lancelot and Elyan dragged him up, pulled him to the screen that they were watching, where the injured King was being dragged by Merlin.

‘He knows. About the Magic.’ Lancelot explained, then quickly gave Gwaine the run-down of their new life, that they got to watch Merlin’s instead. Gwaine looked horrified, but that was forgotten the moment that Merlin called for Kilgharrah, the Dragon coming to get them.

Then they watched as Arthur died, and the King appeared in the room.

It was horrible, watching as Merlin sobbed and crumbled to the floor, the boat burning on the lake. Arthur was silent, face stony but tears in his eyes, sitting alongside the others as it happened. The four of them had to watch as Merlin rose himself up, dusted down his trousers, and they caught sight of the Warlock’s reflection.

He looked awful.

**

When Morgana appeared, chaos came with it. There was a lot of screaming, attempted spells that did nothing to hurt any of them, before eventually the Witch collapsed in exhaustion. They banished her from the main room, said she had to stay in one of the magical rooms that had appeared. Morgana didn’t fight them, disappeared quickly and left them to watch as Merlin went home.

**

It was Leon that came next. He’d died in a bandit-attack, protecting one of the younger Knights that was too foolish to get out of the way of a crossbow bolt. He jumped in the line of fire, and thanks to the fact he had no armour, it went straight into his chest.

They saw it all, because Merlin had to watch it. Because Merlin’s hand shot out to save him, but it was too late, and Merlin caught his body just as the light died from his eyes.

Leon joined them in the room, by which point they had allowed Morgana to join them on the seat. It kept expanding, every time one of them died, so there was plenty of room for Leon to join them. It had only been six months since the Battle, yet almost all of them were dead.

The group watched as Merlin lit the fire that sent Leon’s boat out across the lake, the other Knights silent, before they rode back to tell the Queen. They watched as her tears fell, as Percival sunk to the floor in the throne room and Merlin stood, unmoving in front of them.

‘I’m so sorry, my Lady, I could not…’

‘Leave me, Merlin.’ She commanded, and the Warlock bowed and left.

**

Percival appeared three years after that. For them, it didn’t feel that long, it seemed to skip quite quickly. He had died leading a Hunt, they were ambushed, according to the Knight. They didn’t get to watch the death, Merlin had not been present, but they did see the moment where a Knight came to tell the Queen and the Warlock that stood by her side.

They watched as Merlin helped Gwen to mount her horse, before they took the body to the lake and burnt it. Once more, they saw Merlin’s reflection, and he looked old. Tired, like he was carrying a weight on his shoulder that he could not carry any longer.

Even Morgana was brought to tears at this point, Lancelot handing her across a handkerchief to dry her eyes.

**

Gaius was not impressed to join the room. He took one look at all of them, sighed, and then took a seat. Arthur was the one nominated to tell the man that he had to watch the life of Merlin, to which Gaius raised an eyebrow, the dreaded move that had them all silent.

Still, he joined the seat with them, commenting on how they were all the age they had been in the golden-age of Camelot, not the age they had died at. He looked across to Morgana, and she hesitated, before Gaius opened out his arms to her and she fell into them, sobbing about how she was sorry.

The others awkwardly looked away, but they understood that the apology was sincere, let her sit beside Gaius as they looked to the screen.

‘Gwen…’

‘It’s just the two of us now, Merlin. All alone, in a world where we were nothing but servants.’ From the eyes of Merlin, they watched as the Warlock dropped to his knees, before looking up to the Queen.

‘I’m so sorry that I failed you, my Lady.’ Gwen regarded him, before she came to sit beside him, tucked herself on his lap and they spent the day there. When they finally rose, Gwen looked up to him and briefly kissed his lips, chaste.

‘You didn’t fail, Merlin. You could have never succeeded.’

**

Watching the two grow old was painful. Gwen grew slower, her kind eyes grew weary, and the Crown was to be passed on to one of the nobles that she trained. Merlin grew older in a slightly more cheerful manner, apart from the moment where his Mother died, where no tears fell, but he sat as a storm raged around them and didn’t move.

Gwen died with Merlin by her side, holding her hand. It was heart-breaking, to see Gwen take one last breath, before she fell asleep and did not wake. As Merlin rose from her side, they caught his reflection in the mirror.

Old. Tired, like he could not continue.

They watched as he stayed for the funeral, before he went to the Physician’s hut that he stayed in, packed up his things.

Lancelot’s shirt. Elyan’s sword. Gwaine’s necklace. Leon’s cape. Percival’s emblem. Arthur’s cloak, the one that Merlin had gifted him to wear and Arthur had never returned it. Gaius’s spell-books, which he packed into the bag. Gwen’s pendant-crown, which he wrapped carefully in Leon’s cape and packed it.

The last thing he did was to walk to the barred Chambers, the place that belonged to Morgana, that had never been reopened. He entered it with a muttered spell, walking across to her dresser and picking up the hand-mirror she had kept. He added that to the pile, before looking into the mirror.

A spell, and when they next looked, Merlin was no longer an old man. He was the Merlin that they knew, the young version with sharp-cheekbones and smooth skin.

Merlin left Camelot.


	2. The aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's unhappy

‘Freya? Did you know this would happen?’ Merlin was sitting on the edge of the Lake, looking across to where Freya had risen from the waters. She cocked her head, not quite understanding the question, and he tried to swallow down the bile that swirled as he thought too deeply.

His satchel, which contained everything from his years in Camelot. Funny, he had grown old there, yet he had no more than a handful of possessions, and they were not even his. He’d stolen them, unable to let go of those that he’d lost.

‘That I would end up alone.’ She winced, looked out across the waters. He had been surprised that she’d surfaced at all, but perhaps she was feeling sorry for him. After all, he was all alone in a big world now. Gwen was gone, his last friend, and now he had nobody.

‘Merlin…’

‘You did.’ He concluded, and Freya vanished. He chuckled, but it was a hollow sound, and Merlin kicked back to look at the sky. He reached for the knife at his belt, briefly wondered if this was a cowardly way out. But how could anyone judge him, when he’d lost so much.

‘I wouldn’t do that,’ Freya began, reappearing, but Merlin ignored her. Hummed a tune under his breath, and tried to remember all that he had lost. Lancelot’s friendship, Elyan’s witty humour, Percival’s gentle smiles. Leon, the Knight he knew the longest, who loved to ruffle his hair. Gwaine… he couldn’t even think about the Knight, not without the ache in his chest taking over. Gaius, his father-figure and mentor, the man that had been there for him since he first went to Camelot. Gwen, his best friend and the woman he grew old with. Morgana, the friend he betrayed and ultimately had to kill.

Arthur.

Merlin pressed the knife to the soft skin on the inside of his wrist, tried to remember when he had started crying. His vision was blurring, but he could still see the knife against his skin, tilted his head back to the sky as he pressed down.

‘I’m all alone, Freya. I just… I just want this to end.’

When Merlin woke up, he found the cut to have healed, a long, silvery scar that he stared at. Laughter broke from his lips, he couldn’t help it, he was stuck on this earth. Stuck, even though he’d cut his own wrist. The blood on the grass was still wet, the knife blade sticky, and Merlin sobbed as he laughed harder. A cruel irony, something he could appreciate.

From her perch, Freya looked on with the saddest expression he had ever seen.

‘I can’t die.’ He choked out, then laughed some more, before sitting up and staring at her.

‘Is it supposed to be a joke?’ She didn’t respond, and so Merlin decided he’d check it wasn’t a fluke. Picked the knife up again, wrapped both hands around it and pushed it straight into his stomach.

**

‘Easy, little one.’ Merlin crouched down, beckoned his Dragon until eventually Aithusa gave in, came over to him and pressed his head against his lap. The Warlock sighed, welcomed the creature into his embrace.

‘I don’t blame you for A… for what happened.’ Aithusa looked up, still trembling and afraid, and Merlin pressed their foreheads together. Tried to convey how sorry he was, for betraying his kin. For not taking better care of his hatchling. For trusting Kilgharrah, when the Dragon did nothing but make him terrified of everyone around him.

‘And I should be thanking you. For protecting Morgana. I… I let her down, she was my friend and I gave up hope. So, thank you.’ They sat like that for a while, watching the sun set over the fields, before Merlin stood up. His Dragon cocked his head, looking confused.

‘You and me, and the whole world to explore. We’re going to bring them back. Even if it takes centuries.’ Aithusa chirped, pressed his snout to Merlin’s side, and the Warlock let the sun wash over them.

**

Flying over the skies had always been thrilling, especially now that the Dragon carrying him was more the size of a horse, rather than the great beast Kilgharrah had been. They landed, Aithusa having picked a location at the top of a mountain. Down below, he could see a Kingdom, with a wall around the edges, a place that looked to be busy and bustling.

‘Are you ready to scare them to death?’ He asked his friend, and the Dragon agreed quickly.

There were shrieks, cries, people running and others flocking to see them. Merlin was unsurprised when armed men collected them, dragged them towards the great Temple which he hoped would prove his new home. The men dare not touch the Dragon, who growled if they ever got too close, and Merlin was faced with a Kingdom far greater than that of Camelot.

‘Bow to your Emperor.’ A word he had not heard before, but Merlin regarded his new King with an appraising look, bowed his head carefully. Beside the man stood a woman dressed in such finery, who seemed torn between looking at him, or the Dragon by his side.

‘Introduce yourself.’

‘My name is Emrys Pendragon, and I come with a proposition.’

**

‘He is the cutest creature I have ever seen!’ Zoe cried, playing with Aithusa in the gardens of what Merlin now knew to be the Byzantine Empire, under the reign of Constantine VIII. It was far too confusing to him, he knew very little of the politics of this place, but he did know that they had never met a sorcerer before.

Zoe looked up to him, and Merlin snapped himself from his daydream, found the Emperor’s daughter looking at him curiously.

‘You seem pained, Lord Emrys. Like you lost those who you loved.’

‘I did.’ He admitted, surprised at how easily the words spilled out. Zoe rose, her silks moving against her frame as she walked up to him. Her head cocked, before a firm smile crossed her face.

‘Perhaps you could find new love.’

He would bring them back. Every single one of them, and when he did, he’d feel whole again. But for now, he had a Princess and a Dragon, and a Kingdom full of the oldest texts he’d ever seen. He could imagine Gaius, telling him that he should be learning, not flirting with a woman that was far above his status. Could imagine Gwen, admiring the woman’s courage and strength. Imagined the Knights teasing him, and Arthur’s exasperated look as Merlin made a fool of himself.

And then, to make it all the more painful, Zoe admitted that she could fight.

‘What use is a woman, if she cannot wield a sword?’ Merlin remembered Morgana’s skill with such a blade, her challenging smile and her forward-thinking ways.

Camelot was with him, always, and he could never deny that. But he had eternity to bring them all back, to regain all that he had lost.

He would do anything, use anyone, to make that dream come true.


	3. Sire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe leaves, and Merlin meets a serving boy

Merlin sighed, could do nothing but watch as his Empress slipped away from him. She looked over to him, wrinkled and old, reached out for his hand.

‘Merlin…’ All her life, Zoe had reminded him of Morgana. She led armies, commanded the most powerful men across the lands, yet she maintained her status. Never married, had no children, and he almost had fallen for her. Almost let himself claim the title of King, after a night when they fell into bed together. She’d held him, curled up by his side and looked up with all the love he didn’t deserve.

‘You have the strength of a King, yet you cannot have been one, for you would not be alive. It’s always the King that dies.’ She’d said to him, and Merlin thought of Arthur, of his King, and he had bitten down on the pain before it could swell.

‘I was the King’s servant.’ He admitted, to which she had laughed, wrapped her fingers into his hair, tugging.

‘Would you bow to a Lady?’ Gwen, his Queen, and Merlin had felt his vision blur with tears.

‘My Queen. My Empress.’ He called her, slid down her body like it would make everything else slip away.

Now, she reached for him, begged him to come to her side. Merlin looked down at her, before turning and walking from the room.

‘My Lord!’ Someone called, and Merlin halted briefly.

‘The Empress is dying, will you not stay by her side?’ The old Merlin would have cradled her, would hold her tightly and tell her that he would stay until her dying breath.

‘I cannot save the dead.’ He snapped, impatient, and left the Temple that had been his home.

**

Aithusa did not look impressed, but Merlin had no care for what his Dragon thought. He stepped over another fallen body, grimaced at the awful smell.

‘Humans. So… bloody.’ He commented, nudged at a warrior and waited to see if he responded. When he didn’t, Merlin looked up, to the burning Village. He had been planning on leaving the Byzantine Empire, yet somehow he was still here. Like his humanity was pining, begging for him to go back and see his Empress, to hold her.

‘I should probably help them.’ He said aloud, wondered what the others would think if they could see him. Then he decided he did not care, for they were gone and he was left behind, walked in the direction of the burning village.

‘Help me! HELP!’ A woman was running towards him, blood smeared across her face, her dress drenched. She stumbled, fell, and Merlin looked to the man that was following. A sword, drenched in blood, the man halting when he spotted Merlin. Waiting, to see if he would be a threat. Merlin glanced to the woman, trying to scramble back up, looking to him for mercy.

The mercy would be letting her die, her injuries were far too severe to survive, and even if a miracle did occur, she’d die at the next raid.

‘She’s all yours.’ Merlin remarked, turned his back on the woman and barely winced when the sword was brought down.

**

‘Who are you?’ Merlin cocked his head, amused by the fierce protectiveness of the boy, who stood by his fallen master like he could protect him. This was to be his new home, Brittany seemed to be quite a spot, the sea that kept him from Albion stretching in front of him. The Lord that ran the Castle was being sieged, and Merlin had taken pity on him.

It had nothing to do with the fact that he was a blond-haired, blue-eyed man that fought to protect his servants, that had begged Merlin to help his serving boy escape. Unfortunately, it had been that moment when an arrow had pierced through his skin, and now the serving boy was holding the bleeding Lord.

‘The new Lord of this Castle.’ Merlin decided, before stepping towards the serving boy. He crouched down, placed a hand onto his shoulder and ignored the now-dead man between them.

‘Your loyalty is admirable. But it will bring you nothing but pain.’ The boy scrubbed at his tears, looked up to Merlin and then down to his dead Lord.

‘If our Lord is dead, then all hope will be lost.’ The boy slowly rose, took the emblem from the man’s neck, offered it out to Merlin.

‘You can bring us hope.’ He was pleased, the boy would learn quickly, and maybe he would not get hurt like Merlin had. The Warlock glanced to the body, had it vanish with a quick flash of gold in his eyes, before he studied the boy once more.

‘What is your name, boy?’

‘Aspen. I expect to stay by your side, if you’re going to lie about being the Lord.’ He was quick-witted, even had the nerve to roll his eyes as Merlin tested out the title of being the Lord of the Northern Province on his tongue. Yes, he quite liked that, placed the emblem around his neck.

‘Well, Aspen, let’s hope you’re better at being a servant than you are at keeping your Master alive.’ It was a horrible thing to say, and Aspen’s expression was sour, but he still bowed.

‘Let’s hope your cruelty will kill the enemy, my Lord.’

**

‘Up you get, lazy daisy!’ Merlin startled, wondered if Aspen had any idea what he had just said. The boy threw open the curtains, turned to him with a smile. Thirteen years of service, and they had become friends. Merlin hated it, every day it ached, knowing the boy now looked older than him, that he would one-day die.

‘Do me a favour, and never say that phrase again.’ He grumbled, pulled himself from the bed and stared to the plate of breakfast that had been brought for him.

‘There’s less than normal.’ Aspen halted in his task for searching for Merlin’s clothes, threw his best grin.

‘You’re putting on a little weight, my Lord.’ The sourness in his stomach grew, and Merlin felt his appetite slip away.

‘I won’t take breakfast this morning. Eat it up, you look like a stick.’

**

Merlin sat on the cliff-top, looked out over the ocean. It had been a bad evening, filled with nightmares of Camelot, of Arthur looking down at him and calling him an idiot. The storm rumbled overhead, and he looked down to the item he was cradling in his hands. The cloak, the blue one that belonged to him, technically, but had suited Arthur so well.

‘I’m a fool.’ He whispered, then shouted, but it went unheard, with the thunder that raged above his head. Merlin rose, let out another scream, watched as lightning lit the sky. The cloak was shoved, thrown out over the cliff-top, sailed in the wind far from his grip.

‘I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY UP THERE, YOU PRAT!’ Of course, nobody answered, and Merlin sunk back down to his knees.

‘Two sides of the same coin. How can there only be one side?’ He flicked a coin from his pocket, turned it over between his fingers and then chucked that over into the sea as well.

Merlin gathered the strength to stand, the rain soaking him to the bone, looked back to his home. To the Castle he lived in, to the place he was trying to use to fill his heart.

And with that, Merlin stepped backwards and let himself plummet down towards the stormy sea.

**

Aspen found him, lying on the beach, staring at the blood and other materials splattered across the rocks. The servant didn’t ask, he just snatched the salt-drenched cloak from the sand, then came across.

‘No man deserves your tears, my Lord.’ Sometimes, he wondered if Aspen was a God-send, or an awful burden.

‘He was a prat anyway.’ Merlin grumbled, before accepting the hand that the servant offered to him.

‘Must have been, for putting up with you.’ He clipped his servant’s ear, Aspen cackling with laughter and taking off down the beach at a sprint, the blue cloak around his shoulders.

‘Idiot.’ He muttered fondly, before pursuing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for hurting Merlin like this...


	4. Love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's angry, he loses those that he cares for, and then ends up on the sea

‘They’re DEAD, Merlin. They aren’t coming back, and you’re driving yourself insane!’ Freya shrieked at him, while Aithusa hung his head. Merlin had never felt more scolded, it had been a long time since Camelot had fallen. Merlin had travelled the world, seen Empires rise and fall, had lost countless people, but none had come close enough to him, none like his old friends.

‘Go.’ He snarled, drew away from the Lady and turned his back on her.

‘Merlin, I’m sorry, but…’

‘GO!’ He screamed, Magic breaking free before he could stop it. She was thrown back into the Lake, Aithusa cowering away from his rage.

‘You as well. I don’t want to see you!’ His Kin bowed his head, solemnly taking to the skies and leaving Merlin alone again.

**

‘Tell me about them.’ He lay beside the man, George, who tracked his hand up Merlin’s chest.

‘Who?’ Merlin asked, desperate to change the conversation. His first time properly staying in England, he had been unable to do so after Camelot. After losing everybody else.

‘The people who made you so pained.’ George countered, the man that Merlin had been flirting with for the past weeks. It was George’s fault, because he was the brother of the Queen, and Merlin had always hung around royalty.

‘There was Gwen. She was my best friend.’ Why was he doing this? It was stupid, to bring it up. It ached, but George just hummed, let his fingers trail over Merlin’s collarbone.

‘Elyan. Percy, Leon and Lance. My friends, but I never told them that.’ He should have done, should have made it clear how much he adored them.

‘And Gaius, he was like a father to me, and I should have… I never told him…’ Merlin halted, George looking down at him carefully.

‘The woman my sister reminds you of?’ Queen Anne was something fierce, a woman who knew what she wanted, and was willing to fight for it.

‘Morgana. I betrayed her trust, and I should not have done.’ The more he spoke, the easier it became. George was not judging, just listening, offering him a shoulder to cry on.

‘Then there was Arthur. Gwen’s husband, my… my friend. And I was supposed to protect him.’ George said nothing as a tear escaped, brushed it away gently.

‘I’m sure you did everything you could.’

‘My Magic should have been enough to save him.’ And it hadn't been, he’d failed. He choked back a sob, cleared his throat, then found George eyeing him up.

‘What about the one that held your heart?’ He didn’t know how the man knew, how he’d figured it out.

‘Gwaine.’ The word burnt fiercely, stole something from him that he couldn’t bare to see gone.

‘Did he know?’ Merlin laughed at the question, shook his head firmly.

‘No. Never.’ George hummed, brushed aside his tears and looked down.

‘Did he look like me?’

‘Nothing like you.’ Merlin admitted, staring into the green eyes above him.

‘Good.’ George concluded, before kissing him. Merlin startled, for all their flirting they had never done this.

‘I can be whoever you want me to be, Merls.’ The nickname stabbed, and Merlin shook his head.

‘Be you. And never call me that.’

**

‘I couldn’t do anything!’ Mary sobbed, while Merlin clutched at her. The axe came down, and George was dead, and Merlin had lost everything all over again. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he kept trying anymore.

‘You did all that you could.’ Echoing George, he realised. He just held the man’s sister, tried to help her through the tears.

‘The grief will fade.’ He lied, it was all a lie, and he wasn’t even sure who he was anymore.

**

‘You make a habit of saving men from bars?’ The man asked, finishing his drink and throwing Merlin the most brilliant smile he’d ever seen. Nothing more than a drunk Lord, a man that had come back from War but his mind was still far away. A debt he couldn’t pay, and Merlin was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

‘Only the handsome ones.’ Merlin shot back, bought them both a drink, watched as the man laughed.

‘You’re bold. I like that. Do you have a name?’

‘Merlin.’

‘It’s a pleasure, Merlin. I’m Aaron.’ They shook hands, before reaching for their respective drinks.

‘How do you suggest I escape the tab?’ He joked, and the fond memories of Tavern-hunting with Gwaine came back, unwanted. He swallowed down his drink, hoping to settle the bile.

‘We run very fast.’ Merlin joked.

**

‘Help me…’ Aaron croaked, clutching at the wound in his stomach. Merlin winced, that had been unfortunate, he had almost been close to bedding the man. Instead, a stupid highway-man had stopped them, and had pulled a dagger on them.

Over the years, in the many ways Merlin had killed himself, he began to heal faster and faster. The knife that had run him through barely kept him for a moment, Merlin was back on his feet and staring at his almost-lover.

‘I’m awful at healing.’ Merlin was telling the truth, so decided it was time to put the poor man out of his misery. He would bleed out, and it would be ever so painful, and he could do nothing to stop that.

‘You were almost a good memory.’ Merlin added, then twisted his hand and watched the man’s neck break. That was sad, he genuinely had wanted a new friend, someone to keep him on the tracks for a couple of years.

Apparently, Merlin didn’t deserve happiness.

**

‘Board my ship. Come with me, and you’ll never have to feel any emotions.’ The Pirate, for that was what he was, said. Merlin stared at the wooden ship that was bound to sink, to the band of men that would probably slit his throat in his sleep.

‘Sounds like a thrilling idea.’ He decided, chucked away his name and boarded the ship. He looked around, looked over the sea and then to the Captain of the ship.

‘Do you have a name, boy?’ Merlin mused over the question, knew this would decide his future.

‘John. John Cornelius.’

How was he supposed to know he’d become a very successful pirate?

**

‘I thought this was what you wanted, Freya.’ Merlin snapped, having drowned for the third time. He was now seated on a piece of floating wreckage, the Lady of the Lake looking rather unimpressed as she held onto a barrel. It was such a funny sight, he would have laughed. As it was, Merlin was attempting to cough up salt water, so he saved the laughing for later.

‘I wanted you to understand that you couldn’t bring them back. Not die every other day, ruining your life.’

‘My life? My life?! My entire existence was based on a man that’s been dead for a thousand years, and I’m supposed to do what, exactly? Be happy?’ He was losing his temper again, he had to stop doing that. Taking a deep breath, he schooled his emotions, looked back to his once-friend.

‘I cannot bring them back, and I cannot join them. Nothing has changed, Freya. I want to die. I want to die, and I want to stay dead.’ The words made her cry, and she disappeared from her barrel. Merlin, annoyed that he’d been left alone again, looked out across the open ocean. Dead bodies floated around, coming closer to him, and Merlin peered into the water.

‘Maybe I could get eaten by a shark.’


	5. Morrigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I've updated some tags, this chapter gets a little darker? Ish?

‘It’ll help with the sadness. Makes you forget everything.’ The ex-soldier bragged, and Merlin eyed it up curiously. Opium, or more accurately, morphine. It had been refined, the substance was very strong, and apparently addictive.

‘Does it have any risks?’ Merlin inquired, intrigued by the entire thing. The soldier laughed, hands shaking dangerously. He did not know if that was from the stress of war, or the drugs.

‘Death, if we get it wrong.’ Now he was interested, grinned at his new friend.

‘I’ll take as much as you have.’

**

To say Freya was unimpressed, would have been an understatement. In fact, she looked very annoyed when Merlin stumbled over to her, hands still shaking slightly.

‘Look at this!’ He stated, amazed by the feeling, already hooked on how… right it felt. Calm, like he was normal.

‘You’re going to get sick.’ Freya whispered, as Merlin looked across to her and raised an eyebrow.

‘Maybe this time death sticks.’ He suggested, to which the Lady of the Lake cried, sobbed. Merlin, feeling bad, moved across to comfort her. Hugged her tightly, smiled as she tucked against him.

‘I should have known you would always need them.’ She murmured, and Merlin just laughed, shook his head.

‘Sometimes, if I take enough, I can see them.’ That wasn’t the answer she wanted, apparently. Freya gripped his hair, tugged his head back and stared at him.

‘You lost everything, everything but me. When will you see that?’ She was angry, he realised. Angry, and he tightened his hold on her, before daring to kiss her lips. She kissed him back, just as furious, and Merlin growled. They were moving, towards the bank of the Lake, but they couldn’t leave it. He lay them down on the side, while Freya gripped at him and tugged, yanking his trousers open and moving her dress out of the way.

It felt awful, afterwards. When he lay on the shore, alone, because Freya had left and the high had ended. He was back to shaking, to feel sick, rolled over and emptied his gut.

‘I hate you. I hate you, for taking them from me.’ He meant every word, and from the fact that Freya did not come back, he knew she understood.

**

Merlin leant back in the chair, kicked up his feet and breathed in another mouthful of smoke. Opposite him, the girl was still cowering, dress ripped and blood trickling from the wound on her head.

‘Thank you. For saving me, I mean.’ He didn’t know why he had. No, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he’d saved the woman with dark black hair, and the brightest of green eyes.

‘You can stay while you recover. Don’t get in my way.’ She rose up, curtseyed, and then left the room. Merlin looked out of the window of his house, tapped on the end of the cigar and watched the ash flicker down.

He then rose, dug the burning end onto his arm, where the sleeve was rolled back. It burnt, ached in a way that he craved, before he placed it down and walked from the room. Falling into old habits, he realised, staring at one of the maids as she escorted his new guest to a room.

‘What’s her name?’ He asked one of the passing maids, who halted and bobbed a curtsey.

‘Morrigan, my Lord.’

‘Tell her to change it. I don’t like it.’ She curtseyed again, scurrying away.

**

‘Who was she? The woman with my name.’ Morrigan was stubborn, he’d give her that. She lowered the pistol she was holding, looked back to Merlin, who was dressed in a suit with a hat upon his head. Ready to leave, to go to visit the young Queen. Instead, he was delaying such a meeting just to look at her.

‘Not quite your name. Morgana.’ Morrigan rose the pistol again, shot one of the bottles clean from its perch.

‘You could call her an enemy.’

‘Don’t lie. She was your friend.’ The girl shot back, tucking the pistol into her holster and walking across, a gown of deep green that suited her well. Merlin regarded her curiously, from the curled and pinned hair on her head, to the boots she wore under her dress.

‘I betrayed her.’

‘I think you should forgive yourself.’ Merlin stormed away from the girl, her words haunting. He made it to the carriage, slammed the door shut behind him and reached into his jacket for the handy vial of morphine. Just a little, to take away the edge.

**

Queen Victoria looked very young, unsure, as he spoke to her of the Country. Merlin had been trusted by the past Kings and Queens of Britain, and it was a long-kept secret that he was always there to aid them when they needed.

‘I am to be married next year.’ The girl, for that was what she was, stated. Merlin nodded, explained the benefits of her doing such a thing, that it was a good match for her. She’d be well-suited, at nineteen years of age, twenty when she married, to her husband-to-be.

‘You misunderstand me, my Lord. I wish for you to treat me like a Queen. I want to live.’ She rose up, her skirts brushing against him as she came to sit down, right on his lap.

‘My Lady, it would not be…’ But then her lips were on his, and Merlin was fed up of his body not being his own. Of falling again and again, until he was lying back on the chair and her hands were moving. Stripping the belt and trousers, her skirts moving. She was beautiful, honestly she was, but Merlin did not want to sleep with her.

Still, his hands moved up to rest against her thighs, and he was kissing her back just as passionately.

‘Call me your Queen.’ She demanded, and Merlin knew she would be a brilliant ruler. That she’d make the country prosperous.

‘My Queen.’ He purred, watched as she settled down on him and sighed.

**

‘Why do you run from me?’ Morrigan asked, and Merlin halted in his movements. He sighed, gestured to the chair opposite, and she came to sit by his side. Between them, the fire cackled away, Merlin pouring the girl a drink and sliding it across.

‘Do you ever feel like somebody else is living in your body? That you can see, but cannot control?’ The girl, of course, understood. She had been living on the streets, before he’d saved her. Before he’d promised to look after her, and then she’d stayed.

‘You are nobody but yourself, my Lord. You can be whoever you want.’ He didn’t deserve her company, she was too kind.

‘I would like to be dead. Sadly, it does not seem to stick.’ Saying the words aloud, to somebody other than Freya, was odd. Morrigan cocked her head, studying him for a moment, before she asked the question,

‘How does it not stick?’ Merlin reached for the pistol, watched her eyes widen as she lunged to stop him.

When he woke back up, Morrigan startled and jumped back, before eyeing up the pistol. She had been kneeling by his body, tears on her cheeks, yet now she reached for where the bullet had gone. There was nothing there, her fingers tracked over smooth skin, and she gasped.

‘Impossible.’

‘My Destiny, to always live.’ Merlin tried to lighten his tone, but it just sounded horrible. Miserable, the ache was already back, and Morrigan took his hand.

‘Destiny is cruel, to make you live when you do not want to. But, perhaps, you were waiting to meet someone who could make you feel alive.’ The mischief in her eyes sparkled, pushing through the tears, and Merlin was falling once more. Squeezed her hand, and looked up at her in hope.

‘Love always hurts.’ He admitted, and the girl smiled.

‘Then try not to fall for me.’


	6. The ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next chap will be a bit of a change, but for now, have some more hurt Merlin

Morrigan watched as he explained all of his failed attempts, peered over his shoulder as he showed his many notebooks full of writings.

‘So how many times have you tried to bring them back?’

‘Well into the hundreds.’ He stated, turning back to her. Merlin had never showed anybody all of his work, everything he had collected on those that he had lost. She looked mildly impressed, if a little worried, before her smile turned up to him.

‘Then we better get to work.’

**

Just because he had someone to help him, did not mean he fell out of his old patterns. The marks on his arms began to increase, the highs never quite enough to fuel him anymore. She always kept a close eye on him, would scold him when she found him curled up shaking, always held him as he worked through the highs and lows.

‘Freya has to be able to bring them back.’ Morrigan remarked, tapping at the image of the Lady. Merlin mumbled a vague agreement, breathed in a lungful of smoke and blew it out steadily.

‘Does it feel good?’ He halted, looked across to the woman, found her peering down at him with a look of curiosity.

‘The highs of the smoke? Brilliant, like I’m floating on a cloud.’ He mused, and Morrigan chuckled. He knew many of his household did not approve of the woman that usually only wore trousers now, shirts that had the sleeves rolled up, always kept her hair tied tightly in a bun to stop it from getting in the way. They were both outcasts from society, especially now that the Queen was married with a swollen belly and a husband that was excited for their first child.

‘I’d like to try.’ He should say no, should stop her from falling to his level. But, in the end, Morrigan would die. He may not want her to, may trust her like no other, but he didn’t have a choice. She’d fade, and he was planning on making the most of his time with her.

‘Come here.’ He took in a breath, tapped his lip invitingly. She smirked, bent down and breathed in deeply, their lips barely touching.

‘I don’t want this to be because you’re high.’ She murmured, and Merlin grabbed her thighs, tugged her until she came to straddle his hips.

‘Everything good happens when you’re high.’ He scolded gently, let her settle on his lap before bringing the smoke back, letting her watch as he took a deep breath.

This time, their lips hit, and he decided that it would hurt to lose her.

**

‘We found the note, Lord Emrys. Nothing out of the ordinary. Did she have any family?’ Merlin stared at the snow, the dark red patch by the end of the garden where his girlfriend had taken his pistol and placed it to her temple.

‘No. She was a runaway.’ Merlin remarked, the body being lifted and carried away from him. He regarded the snow, then looked to the inspector.

‘One thing that appeared in the note, she said that she was afraid of growing old.’ Morrigan was thirty years old, five days ago. They had celebrated her birthday with music and a party and lavish decorations, and then he’d taken her to bed with the same energy of their first time ten years previously.

‘Aren’t we all.’ Merlin replied, before tipping his hat to the Inspector, turning back to his mansion.

The blizzard continued, a storm that had settled over the entirety of London.

‘Looks like it’ll be a white Christmas.’ One of the officers stated, and Merlin thought about the red in the snow.

**

That night, Merlin lay on the floor of his home, hands shaking as he tried to tie the belt around his arm. It wasn’t working, he didn’t have enough concentration, and eventually he just gave in. Sunk back and sobbed, because it hurt so much, and he didn’t have a choice anymore.

Thankfully, the belt proved useful for something else, and Merlin found peace in the brief silence in his mind.

**

The funeral was an awfully painful thing, considering she didn’t have many other people besides him. In fact, it was just him and his staff, on his private graveyard within his lands. Then the Queen’s carriage pulled up, and he was forced to turn to the woman that ruled the country, the one that already was showing the tell-tale signs of aging.

‘I’m sorry for your loss, my Lord.’ She had not brought her husband, and the Guards knew better than to comment on the fact that she came forwards to stand by his side in the snow, head resting against his shoulder.

‘I really hope she found peace.’ He whispered, wondering if he’d ever have the honour of joining her in the ground. It would be nice, he thought, death seemed like such a peaceful thing.

‘You can always come to the Palace. I’d love for you to meet…’ He cut her off, knowing where that sentence was going, and just walked to the gravestone. Tapped the top, looking to the sky.

‘Rest well, Morrigan. I’ll light a cigar for you.’ He joked, cold fingers reaching into his jacket.

Unlike the others, he could not die from the cold, so he remained outside long into the night.

**

‘Could you do it?’ Merlin inquired, staring at Freya for the first time in a long while. The woman sighed, confirming his suspicions.

‘I was told it was not time, until…’

‘I don’t care what you were told, Freya. You kept them from me for so long.’ He halted, took a long swig of the whiskey, uncaring that it was straight from the bottle. The burn was pleasant, harsh in a way he missed.

‘I can’t even remember their voices. How stupid is that, huh?’ He choked back on the tears that always came, seeking back in his memories, trying to hear them. Time had faded even the strongest of moments, memories mixing with Merlin’s wishes until there was nothing but a blur.

‘I’m so sorry.’ She whispered, looking horrified.

‘I’ve lived for long enough that I can’t even remember why I’m grieving. If that was your Destiny’s plan, then you can tell her I want no part of it. Screw you, screw Destiny. Keep them.’ If it was his burden to be lonely for eternity, then he’d have to do it. He had no choice, after all.

‘The Goddess has a plan, Merlin. You’re her child, she’d never…’

‘Fuck her. Fuck you, Freya. Nobody could… I can’t do this. Yet I don’t even get a choice on that.’

**

Merlin nodded to his servant, who was trying not to cry.

‘You’ll be one of the richest women in England after this.’ He was trying to bribe her, he realised, as he stepped into the box. Settled down into it, and turned to the girl.

‘This is murder.’ She whispered, and he rolled his eyes.

‘Not if I don’t die. Now hurry, they’ll be here soon.’ The lid closed, and he heard the chains being wrapped around.

Merlin was done playing Destiny’s game, done sinking into the abyss. So, now, he was doing it literally. Voices sounded, the serving girl paying off the sailors so they told nobody about what they were doing, lifting his coffin up and placing it onto the ship.

‘Dropping it in the middle of the ocean, wonder what’s in it?’ One of them asked, while the other snorted.

‘With how much we’re being paid, we don’t need to think about that.’

Merlin liked the darkness, liked the idea of finally being unable to hurt anyone else.


	7. Morgana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why was she in the room?

Morgana was, to begin with, unsure of why she had been brought back into this room with the others. She was out of place, an anomaly that did not quite fit in. The others were a team, well-versed in how each other acted, more than capable of handling the balance that stood between them. Morgana was the enemy, had been for many years now, and she could see the disruption that her presence had caused.

Then came Merlin. Seeing things through his eyes, it was actually quite awful to witness. Watching as he lost Gwen, stumbled down to the Lake and tried to join them in the room. They all turned, expecting his appearance, but nothing happened. And then the view they had turned back on, and Merlin was back up.

She began to realise why she was there. Seeing Merlin’s struggle, watching him stoop lower and lower, she understood that it wasn’t the Magic that made somebody dark. It was how they were treated, what was in their soul, and she had always had that terrifying fear of Uther. Her brother was different, not like the father they shared, a man that could admit that Magic wasn’t all that bad. Could watch Merlin after his ninth attempt at dying, and swallow down the sob that wanted to rise.

Merlin had been given an awful destiny, just as she had, and she sympathised with him. They watched most of what happened, usually sat on the seats and listened to what he would say, the people he would meet. Sometimes it was just background noise, they had a large home now, with lots of rooms and different things in them. As Merlin’s world modernised, so did theirs. The technology increased, the first time Merlin went into a swimming pool, a room appeared with one.

When the clothing styles changed over time, their wardrobes would host different clothing. They got to be a part of the journey, even if it was an awful one.

His immortality had made him sour, had turned him into somebody that was afraid to love, afraid to care for others. She saw that, when she sat in front of the screen long past everyone else going to bed, sometimes caught a glimpse of his reflection and could see the agony in his eyes.

They had all cried, at least once. Gwaine was thoroughly miserable for the first couple of years, then again when Merlin met George, or when he went to the Taverns drinking. Arthur winced every time Merlin would find something that triggered a memory, Gwen would cry when he called another woman his Queen. But, like Merlin, time began to ebb away the pain. Yes, it was miserable to watch, but they could do nothing for him.

Then Morrigan came, and Morgana genuinely thought they might manage to bring them back. They had all steadily grown to dislike Freya, especially after the incident at the lake which ended in all of them leaving the room, not wanting to watch as the bitter sex drove them apart.

They watched as Morrigan found him in his lowest points, would take away the dangerously addictive liquid and would comfort him. Watched as Merlin actually began to care for someone, to treat her like a friend. They watched when she climbed up into his lap, felt it when Merlin’s heart finally opened up.

And when he stood in the snow, staring down at her dead body, they all felt the shatter. It was worse than any low he’d ever been in, there was just a calm acceptance, Merlin was slipping further than they could ever hope to catch.

Morgana watched, with a horrified expression that mirrored everybody else’s, as Merlin climbed into a box. Listened as the chains rattled, and he was transported onto a ship. Saw through Merlin’s eyes as the water crept in, and Merlin was forced to drown.

And then his eyes would open again, but they could see nothing, and the screen went black once more.

The house no longer expanded, and they stopped watching the screen, all of them trying to pretend that they had not just witnessed Merlin’s demise. That he wasn’t stuck being tortured for all of eternity. She listened as Arthur raged and tried to break apart walls, desperate to get to his friend. Listened to Gwaine’s sobs at night, or Lancelot comforting Gwen when she could take no more. Morgana sat silently, before creeping back out to the screen.

‘Somebody, please, find him.’ She whispered, terrified, dug her nails into her palm until little drops of blood formed under her nails, gasped as she watched the wounds heal.

Magic, something that had left her the moment she arrived in this place, now flooding back for just the briefest of moments. Concentrating, focusing all of it onto that one wish, that somebody came along that would, like Morrigan, manage to keep Merlin alive for long enough to see them reunited. It was all she wanted, to let Merlin know that she understood his pain, that he wasn’t alone any more.

On the screen, it flicked to black again, before a tiny orb appeared. A faint light, illuminating the side of the box, and Morgana gasped.

‘Morgana.’ The word was said through a gasp of water, a choked mess that had the screen turning black again, but maybe now he knew he wasn’t alone.

Maybe now, he might understand that somebody else was with him through the agony.

**

Merlin threw up yet more sea-water, before looking up at the woman standing over him. Times had definitely changed, he mused, staring at the suited-woman with her hair tied back tightly, flanked either side by men with odd looking pistols. Certainly intriguing, and Merlin looked to the box he had been in, then back to the woman.

She was probably in her late twenties, with hair a strawberry-blonde and green eyes, rather an odd combination.

‘Merlin Emrys, my name is Alexia Godwin. MI5, on an order from her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II.’ He listened to the words, didn’t point out that he had no idea what MI5 was, just shook the offered hand with slight confusion. She briefly smiled, before offering him out a blanket and taking a step back. Professional, he’d always appreciated women with a sharp mind, and now it seemed they could hold a position over men. It was about time.

‘What can I do for you?’ He croaked, guzzled down the water that she handed after the blanket.

‘More like what we can do for you, Mr Emrys. How would you feel about bringing back your lost friends from Camelot?’


	8. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chap, but a good one hopefully

Merlin focused on the object in front, then looked to the woman in a lab-coat and goggles by his side.

‘Are you quite sure you can survive this?’ Alexia asked, and he wanted to point out the entire immortality thing again, then thought better of it. She’d spent her life researching his history, convincing the government that he would be a valuable asset, trying to get funds to pull him up from the bottom of the ocean and into this facility.

‘Quite sure.’ She nodded, checked the cables once more, before leaving the room. Merlin rolled his shoulders back, let his Magic settle at his fingertips, let his eyes fall shut.

Energy had always been what was lacking. He could just about reach the point of bringing them back, could feel the trace of their power, and then it slipped. Now, he had access to unlimited energy, and he was going to try and bring them back.

All this time, struggling to do the one thing he wanted, and now it might be in reach. He knelt down, placed each item onto the floor and carefully focused on where he positioned them.

First came Leon’s cape. He folded it, put it down on the ground and then reached for the next item. Elyan’s sword, placed down beside the cape. He was glad that his estates hadn't been touched, that he still had these items. That, even if he’d given up hope, he’d been lucky enough that the world hadn't. Percival’s emblem was next, then Lancelot’s shirt. The friends he adored, the ones it would be easiest to bring back.

Gwen’s pendant-Crown, which he paused on, then placed down. Morgana’s hand-mirror, which had somehow survived all this time without cracking. Funny, he thought bad-luck followed him regardless.

Thoughts of Morgana led him to his last conscious moment in the box. The time when he could have sworn he saw her Magic, could feel it in his bones. That connection might prove useful in bringing them back, it had given him the memory of her, the remembrance of who she was.

Arthur’s cloak, the one that had seen the worst damage, came next. The spell-book that he had preserved with Magic, ironic really, that was from his Uncle.

‘Is that all of them?’ Alexia was back, and Merlin shook his head.

‘Not quite.’ He reached for his neck, slowly undid Gwaine’s chain from around it. The ring that belonged to his father, and to the token that had been his Mother’s. He put that down as well, before eyeing up all the items.

‘If this works…’

‘Then I’ll be in your eternal debt.’ Merlin finished, and the girl shook her head.

‘I don’t need your gratitude. I’m doing this because of what you did for my family.’ Who knew that the servant that he’d paid to throw him into the ocean would be the one that looked after his home, that eventually would found the government group that looked after everything Magical. He was vaguely impressed.

‘I’m going to start with one. If it works, then we can try the others.’ Merlin didn’t want to get his hopes up, he knew how badly that worked before. But he couldn’t help it, his Magic was itching, everything felt exciting. He was ready.

Alexia locked the door once more, and he felt the charge begin to power up. Electricity, they called it, but he knew it as lightning. The charge was going to burn him, but it would also connect him back to the lifeforce of the earth beneath his feet.

The moment it hit, he had to remind himself he had suffered worse. That the agony in his veins was worth it, just to see them again. To hope that he might have the chance.

The spell was well-practiced, something of his own design, that incorporated all of his requests into one phrase. Making spells was complicated work, but he’d had a long time to make it work.

Slowly, the buzzing faded. The burning in his body slipped away, the room was no longer too bright to see. Blinking away the blurred vision, the sickness that threatened to overtake, the Warlock looked across to the person that now stood in the room.

‘Merlin.’

‘Morgana.’

**

In the room, they had returned the moment that light had pierced through the usually black screen. Morgana had never given up faith, even if she believed the others had begun to. Watching as Merlin stumbled from his container, threw up what had to be at least half of the ocean, it hurt to see. The world around was bright, and she got to see what the new place looked like.

There was a woman in a suit, and men with pistols, and it seemed like they had found him on purpose.

Merlin went with them, as she’d expected him to. Had washed away the sea water, eaten his first proper meal in what he was told was two hundred years. Morgana listened to every word, sat on the edge of the chair and dug her nails in deep, only felt herself relax when she heard Merlin’s laugh for the first time in years.

‘He’s happy.’ Gwen murmured, a pleased smile on her lips, but Morgana knew his happiness was on the basis of being able to bring them back.

By the time the room was made, she was beginning to feel the nerves again. If this went wrong, Merlin would slip. They’d seen it so many times, the hopefulness in his movements, in his words, even if they couldn’t see his eyes most of the time.

When the blinding light filled the screen, Morgana winced. It began to feel awfully hot, and she screwed her eyes shut, was surprised when her chest burnt slightly.

Strangely, she was standing up when the light retreated. Barefoot, just as she’d been sitting on the sofa in the room, the floor cold beneath her.

Then she saw him. Bright golden eyes, that flicked to blue, and Morgana felt her heart burst.

‘Merlin.’ Breathed out, shocked, yet filled with joy.

‘Morgana.’


	9. Back Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chap, with the gang back together

She was sobbing, clutching at him as he held her tightly, as she pulled back and kissed him straight on his lips, then on his forehead, tugged him back into her. His body felt thin, like he was all skin and bones, which she supposed made sense after he had been in the water for so long. Strange, she could almost still smell the sea on him, could taste the salt that hung around his form.

‘Hey, hey it’s alright, shh.’ Soothing her, like she was the one that had been alone for so long. Eventually she managed to get the tears under control, stepped back and studied him. Finally, after only getting glimpses, she got to see what he looked like. The tired bags under his eyes, the bright spark that had dimmed in the bright blue, the way he looked so old despite being in the body from Camelot.

‘You did it.’ She watched his puzzled expression, knew this was the point where he might get slightly angry. How would she feel, if her life had been exposed to all those that she cared for? If they saw everything, the tears, the pain.

‘We could see. We… we were all together, in house. Everything you saw…’ His eyes widened, shock, recoiling away from her like he’d been slapped. Morgana held her tongue, knew that his instinct would be to panic, that he was now realising that she might be horrified.

‘I am not judging you! Never, Gods, Merlin, I understand.’ She took his hands, calloused and rougher than she’d expected, looked up to him and tried to convey how happy she was. Merlin had tears forming, bottom lip trembling in a way that made her heart ache for him. How many times had she wanted to comfort him, to tell him that they were right there by his side?

‘Everything?’ The highs, the very painful lows, the moments she wished she had forgotten, and the moments where Merlin had almost looked as happy as he did back in Camelot.

‘Everything.’ She confirmed, squeezing his hands to show that she was not angry, that she understood. Morgana briefly glanced back to where Alexia had entered the room, then looked back to Merlin. The girl was of no concern, not when they had the chance of getting all of the group together. Like they should have been since the beginning, Morgana realised.

She was alive. In the modern world, dressed in leggings and the flannel shirt that was actually one of Leon’s. If she’d have known he was going to be able to do it this time, she might have brushed her hair.

‘I… all of you? Gwen? Gaius?’

‘All of us. Well, not Mordred.’ She concluded, saw Merlin’s flinch. Fifteen-hundred years, and the name still made him tremble. Was it because he had not taken one of his items? Or was it Merlin’s fear, that left him from the group.

‘I saw you. Your light.’ He whispered, and it made her smile to know he had recognised her, even after all these years. That his memories would come back to him, of the times in Camelot. She wouldn’t leave his side, this time.

‘Now, let’s bring back our friends.’ Morgana smoothly stated, reaching for the slight tug of Magic she had left.

After all, Merlin would need all the help he could get to bring them all back.

**

Gwen was the next that tumbled out, throwing herself at Merlin, who barely managed to catch her in time. Morgana smiled as they both cried, as they pressed their heads together and linked their fingers, the once-Queen making him promise that he didn’t do anything so reckless again, that she would never let him out of her sights.

Gaius looked slightly impressed as he appeared, and Merlin hugged his Uncle so tightly, the man patting his back and assuring him that he wasn’t alone anymore. That they would talk more about this when Merlin was done.

Leon and Elyan scrambled from the light at the same time, regarding each other, then charging at Merlin. His hair was ruffled, manly hugs exchanged, and Morgana would never tell if tears formed in their eyes.

Percival squeezed Merlin so tightly she was surprised bones didn’t break, the Warlock looked positively tiny compared to the largest Knight.

Lancelot and Merlin shared brief whispers of words, apologies from both of them. Lancelot had been the longest resident of the room, yet it was clear that he had known about Merlin’s Magic before his death. Morgana didn’t ask about it, just watched as he came across to stand with them.

Arthur, strangely, was the next one. The once-King was dressed in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, barefoot like he’d been while sitting on the sofa beside her. That hug was emotional, even Morgana looked away, felt awful listening to Merlin’s apologies that Arthur told him were never needed.

When Gwaine stepped through, Morgana relaxed. The last Knight, the last of them to come from the room, and he moved straight for Merlin with all the conviction of a man on a mission. She didn’t look away from this one, watched Merlin crumple as Gwaine grabbed him, a kiss that was soft despite the thousands of years that they’d been apart.

‘Now what?’ Arthur pointed out, but Merlin was too busy smiling at all of them to answer the question.

**

As it turned out, being alive in the modern world required lots of paperwork. For the most part, they sat still while Merlin spoke to Alexia, his tone basically bursting with happiness. He could barely keep his body from shaking, his eyes kept looking around to check that they weren’t about to randomly disappear.

‘I can’t believe you’re all here. Finally.’ He looked up at them with such shock, with the pain of having lost them for so long. Morgana smiled, nudged his shoulder.

‘We aren’t leaving.’ Never, they wouldn’t leave Merlin alone again.

‘Plus, who else is going to show us this new world?’ Arthur added in, and Merlin rose from the chair, gestured for the door.

‘Ready to explore?’

They had all the time in the world, now that they had Merlin back. She watched as Gwaine took his hand, as Merlin’s smile finally echoed the ones from Camelot, from before everything else had gone wrong.

‘We’re right by your side.’


End file.
